


into carpet burns and carousels (christ you'll be the death of me)

by lazyfish



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Co-Parenting, Falling In Love, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28907733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish
Summary: Past, present, future - it's all the same to Robin.It's not the same to Bobbi, Hunter, and Polly.
Relationships: Polly Hinton/Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse
Comments: 18
Kudos: 14





	into carpet burns and carousels (christ you'll be the death of me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smallblueandloud](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallblueandloud/gifts).



Robin’s asleep when they arrive at the safehouse, and they don’t wake her.

Polly’s the one to carry her into the bedroom, even though the moment Robin had met Bobbi she’d looked up at her with a sleepy-eyed _Mummy?_ and punched the air out of all three of the adults.

(They are so tired, the three of them. Tired and scared because two of them are not ready to be parents, and one of them is not ready to stop. Past, present, future - it’s all the same to Robin, but it’s not the same to them.)

They keep the lights off and avoid each other’s eyes. 

There is only one bed. Robin is in it.

Polly sleeps on the couch; Bobbi sleeps on the floor near the door; Hunter doesn’t sleep at all.

\---

The tiny wooden bird Robin carries with her perches on the edge of the counter no matter who cooks breakfast.

They haven’t found a rhythm yet. Polly doesn’t know how not to be the only adult in the house. (It’s been so long since Charles was around, and she _remembers_ what it was like to have a partner, but the way she remembers her childhood; everything is colored gold and gauzy, too indistinct to hold onto.)

Bobbi doesn’t know how to let someone else take care of her - that’s nothing new.

Hunter doesn’t know how to sit still. He takes the wooden toy from the counter’s edge and dances it across Robin’s hands and shoulders, makes it peck kisses into her cheeks until she’s giggling and squawking like a baby bird.

Polly doesn’t know how not to be the only adult in the house. She doesn’t know how not to be the only person who can make Robin light up like that, but she thinks maybe she likes it.

\---

They are still awkward and fumbling, but none of them are afraid of shattering if something does get dropped. 

And things do get dropped, of course they do, because they are not perfect people and they are not in a perfect situation.

Polly asks _who’s Izzy_ and Bobbi calls Robin _my little bird_ and Hunter says nothing at all when words are sorely needed.

Things do get dropped, but they get picked up again, too - eventually.

\---

 _Who’s Izzy?_ Polly asks again, lit only by the glow of the refrigerator light.

 _She died_.

_I asked who she was, not what happened to her._

Hunter looks at Polly and just shakes his head, and she understands.

It’s midnight and the refrigerator is beeping to let them know it’s still open, but Polly doesn’t loosen her grip, and she doesn’t pretend Hunter’s not crying.

The kitchen tile is cold and the world is dim. Past, present, future - it’s all the same to Robin, but it’s not the same to them. They have to leave the ones they love in the past, have to leave them in the ground, and _damn_ , that’ll never get easier.

(Maybe it doesn’t need to get easier. Maybe they just need to know that however long they carry this burden, there will be someone walking beside them.)

\---

It’s hard to know when Bobbi first looks at Polly and thinks she’s beautiful.

Hunter’s always been good at seeing beauty everywhere he looks - Bobbi, not so much. She’s pessimistic, so much that she can’t even pretend she’s a realist anymore. She doesn’t know _how_ to see beauty anymore, not since the world was ripped out from under her again.

She doesn’t know how to see beauty, but one day she walks into the den and sees Polly sitting with Robin in her lap and can’t find her breath. She blames the missing half-lung, blames the pollen in the air, blames everything except her heart stuttering in her chest.

Robin sees her and runs across the carpet to throw herself at Bobbi’s legs. Bobbi scoops the girl into her arms and twirls her in the air, and she can breathe again.

\---

 _What did we get into_ , Bobbi asks one night when Polly is in Robin’s room, reading her a bedtime story. 

They’ve found an air mattress that Polly sleeps on, and Bobbi and Hunter alternate sleeping on the couch and the floor. But it’s not the sleeping situation Bobbi’s complaining about. They’ve both been through worse.

She’s asking about… everything else. The little girl who still insistently chirps out _Mummy_ and _Daddy_ when she sees them no matter how much Polly tries to correct her.

They are not going to steal a child from her mother.

 _I don’t know_ , Hunter answers, running his fingertips along the creases of Bobbi’s palms. _But I want to find out_.

\---

They visit Charles’s grave together. Robin holds onto her carved bird with one hand and Polly with the other.

Polly’s other hand holds Hunter’s, but none of them talk about that. Bobbi isn’t holding anyone’s hand, because they really shouldn’t be here, being in hiding and all, but…

 _Where’s Papa?_ Robin had asked.

Past, present, future - it’s all the same to Robin, but it’s not the same to them.

Hunter passes Polly a handful of crumpled daisies they’d picked up from the florist’s shop right at close. They hadn’t wanted to inconvenience the poor worker and the flowers had been easy to put together.

Robin chatters at the headstone and even lets go of Polly’s hand so she can sit, cross-legged, on the wet grass.

Polly leans into Hunter’s side. Bobbi holsters her gun and carries Robin back to the car when the time comes. Polly’s slower walking out of the cemetery than she was walking in, but her hand still holds Hunter’s.

\---

Polly doesn’t know how to walk soundlessly like Bobbi and Hunter do. She walks down the hall in the middle of the night and she knows they hear her approaching, but the quiet hum of their conversation doesn’t stop until she’s in the doorway.

 _Everything alright?_ Hunter asks.

 _Just wanted some company_ , Polly whispers. Bobbi gestured her onto the sofa, and Polly lets herself get tangled into the sheets and comforter that make up the bed. 

Bobbi’s arm wraps tentatively around her shoulders but Polly lets herself get tangled in that too, unsure how to say everything that’s been on her mind.

The stars hum outside the window (or maybe it’s just the old air conditioner coming to life). Bobbi doesn’t ask her to leave, even when her eyes drift shut.

\---

Polly and Robin disappear.

Hunter thought he understood terror, but anything he’s felt before is nothing like this. He feels… empty. Like any emotion is too exhausting to feel, like any thought is too heavy to hold - everything other than _please let them be alright_.

It’s not even that he’s failed as their protector, though he has if they’ve managed to up and leave without him knowing. How the hell did they do that? Hunter doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know, but he wants them to be alright. He wants to be able to feel again.

\---

Bobbi’s the one to open the door when Polly comes home.

Robin darts inside, yelling for her Daddy, but Bobbi catches Polly’s arm before she can step inside.

 _You scared me_ , she says quietly. She looks down because this isn’t the sort of thing she can say while looking someone else in the eyes.

 _I’m sorry_. Polly hesitates before placing a single finger under Bobbi’s chin. Their eyes meet, and they breathe in together.

They lean in together, too. The kiss is their exhale, the release of everything they’ve both been holding in since -

(There is no end to that sentence, because neither of them know how long they’ve been telling half truths. Neither of them know how long they’ve felt something different than companionship. Neither of them know.)

\---

They move out of the safehouse. They don’t need it anymore.

They start fumbling again. Bobbi and Hunter don’t know how to ask what Polly wants, and Polly doesn’t know what to say what she wants without someone asking her. They start fumbling again, but they’re still not scared. 

All new love fumbles.

They move into a new house, one with three bedrooms.

They only use two of them.

\---

Summer sprouts like a weed. It scrapes Robin’s knees and tangles her hair, but the further they get from Chicago the wider she smiles, the louder she laughs. They take her through the carnival and she skips through the crowd. She licks the butter from the bag of popcorn off her fingers and happily nibbles at the cotton candy Hunter offers her and gulps down Coca-Cola like it’s water.

Robin asks for the Ferris wheel, the giant slide, the carousel. She asks and asks and she is _here_ , here and nowhere else for the first time in what feels like forever.

Past, present, future - it’s all the same to Robin. For now. 

\---

 _I’ve waited so long for you to come_ , Polly says into the still night air. Her voice creaks and croaks and Bobbi’s around her waist tightens.

Polly dips her head forward, nosing into Hunter’s hair. He’s growing it out again after clipping it short and she’s just now realizing how much hair he has. It smells like him - his shampoo and Bobbi’s, his cologne and her perfume, and something of Polly’s, too. His hair smells like him, but it also smells like _them_ , and… there is a _them_ , and that’s never what she expected.

 _Mummy_ and _Daddy_. She had thought it meant she would leave her baby behind for someone else to have, but it’s not true.

(It should be funny. A part of her had wanted to hate Bobbi and Hunter for taking her Robin away from her, but instead it had made her fall in love with them. It had made her write a new ending to the story she was afraid of living. She made a choice, and it made all the difference.)

 _We’re here now,_ Hunter murmurs back. Bobbi nods and Polly feels it instead of sees it. Bobbi moves the air like no one else and it’s just another strange, unreasonable thing to love about her.

This whole thing is strange and unreasonable, and that’s what makes it so wonderful, too.

\---

 _I don’t like this,_ Bobbi admits as she tangles her hand through Polly’s. Bobbi’s spent the day standing in the front hall of their home watching workers repair the locks on their doors and trying to exude calm confidence. Confidence is difficult when all she feels is a low hum of anxiety. Someone had tried to break into their home, and while Bobbi knows it’s likely just a random hit, it’s still… it brings back bad memories. 

_Having to pretend you’re invincible?_ Polly asks.

Bobbi blinks. Sometimes she forgets that Polly can read her just as well as Hunter, maybe even better. She blinks but then she nods, because there’s no use in trying to lie to Polly.

 _Come here_. 

Bobbi steps closer obediently, allows Polly’s other hand to settle onto her waist. Bobbi rests her hand on Polly’s shoulder, the dancing elective she took at the Academy coming back to her with stunning clarity for something that happened over a decade ago.

 _Just dance,_ Polly commands, and - well, she’s a very difficult woman to say no to.

\---

They fumble one last time. Not one last time, but one last _important_ time. Or at least, they think it’s the last important time, right now. They’re wrong, of course, but it’s easier to believe this is the last time things will be awkward and new.

Afterwards, Hunter watches Polly pull her clothing on and tries not to marvel loud enough for her to feel his eyes on her skin. Everything she does amazes him anew, and this time is no different. It’s not fair that this woman can do everything with ease and passion and grace while still carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, and it’s not fair that twice he has fallen in love with Atlas.

He looks at Polly and sees her, young and scared, with a powerful husband and a powerful daughter and nothing to tether her between them.

He looks at Polly and sees her, old and gray, with a powerful husband and a powerful wife and a powerful daughter and everything to tether her between them.

Past, present, future - it’s all the same to Robin, and Polly is always there.

\---

She and Hunter take long walks together. Bobbi joins them sometimes, but mostly she stays behind and pretends it’s not because she’s afraid her knee will give out on her. 

Bobbi’s knee gets worse when it’s cold, Hunter tells her. He tells her everything and nothing as they go on their walks, swinging Robin between them. Their daughter laughs when she splashes through the piles of leaves at the side of the road, laughs when Hunter tells her silly jokes, laughs at everything.

Polly remembers when Robin never laughed. She likes this version of things much better. She likes the blue sky and the orange leaves and the hazel eyes that gaze at her little girl adoringly.

She loves it, even.

\---

Bobbi has always told herself she wasn’t going to end up here. She wasn’t going to end up standing in a kitchen, barefoot and - well, at least she’s not pregnant. But she’s got her child clinging to her leg and her partners yelling at her from across the house and her life swirling around her in the most perfect sort of chaos.

Bobbi’s always told herself domesticity doesn’t suit her. She’s beginning to think maybe that’s not the truth, that maybe she had just been waiting for the right people to be domestic with. The right people to help her leave her life of war behind her.

(This is not a life Bobbi’s fallen into. It’s a life she’s walked into with eyes open. She just didn’t realize it until she looked back.)

\---

 _This is exactly what I want,_ Hunter says. His loves are dressed in white, except for Robin, who is wearing blue like the sky. She still cradles her toy bird in her palm, but she doesn’t ask about her Papa anymore. Even if she did, Hunter wouldn’t mind. He loves her - he will love her forever.

He will love them all forever.

 _I want this life_ , Hunter continues, looking at Polly and then Bobbi. _Because we made it, together._

Past, present, future - it’s all the same to Robin, and it’s all the same to them, too.

(Past, present, future - it is love that holds them together.)

**Author's Note:**

> Blue, you should know better than to give me ideas. Sorry.


End file.
